Irrational Fear
by Sargent Snarky
Summary: Mark has always been afraid of hospitals… but why? [Challenge 34]


**Title**: Irrational Fear

**Rating**: PG

**Genre**: Humor

**Summary**: Mark has always been afraid of hospitals… but why? (written for Challenge Central, Challenge 34)

**Word Count: **

**Disclaimer: **RENT I do not own.

**A/N**: The challenge is thus: Must be about Mark and/or Roger. The whole point of this challenge is for one of the boho boys to have a phobia, any phobia you wish, with any results you wish.

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The Story:

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Mark has always been afraid of hospitals. And who could blame him? Hospitals are where people go when they're sick, when they're injured… when they're dying. Hospitals smell of antiseptic. Hospitals are sterile. Hospitals are grey and white. Hospitals are filled with strange and alien equipment, shining sharp needles, and eternal beeping machines. Hospitals contain falsely cheerful nurses and stern doctors. 

Hospitals are drab and frightening places. Who could blame _anyone_ for fearing them?

Except… none of those things bother Mark in the slightest. Or, at least, they don't inspire fear in Mark. The sick, the injured and the dying, the smells, the feelings, the colors, the instruments, the nurses and the doctors – Mark isn't afraid of any of them.

No… Mark… is afraid of the clowns.

It all started with the bicycle accident when he was eight. Mark had been riding his bike along one of the sidewalks, downhill, coasting very, very quickly, when the tires spun and caught upon some gravel. The bike lost its traction, Mark lost his balance, and they all went tumbling into the road, where they promptly got clipped by a minivan. This chain of events lead to Mark spending some time in the hospital with a broken arm, a cracked rib, a dislocated knee and a broken leg, among other injuries. He didn't spend the time in an adult hospital, though, given that he was only eight. Rather, he spent it in one of the Children's Hospitals… and that was where he met The Clown.

They had a custom, at that hospital, where once every couple of months would be a "circus day." On this day, the local zoo would bring in a few tame animals for the children to look at, a few acrobats would do tumbling performances, cotton candy would be distributed to those children whose diets permitted it and a clown would juggle and make balloon animals and other such clown activities.

Mark had the fortune (or misfortune) to be residing in the hospital over one of these days, so of course he was permitted to attend. This was shortly after he'd been admitted, so he was as yet in a wheel chair, unable to use crutches at the time. Therefore, when the clown came up to him, laughing in that fake, overly-cheerful clown way and juggling his club-like bowling pins, Mark could not help but shriek in terror, shrinking back, unable to run. The clown, apparently ignorant to the fact that Mark's expression of horror meant that he was, well, horrified by the make-up slathered, leering 'funny-man', came real close to Mark and attempted to joke with the kid.

Needless to say, Mark was scarred for life, especially as the clown's cologne barely covered up the scent of cheap whisky.

Yes, it started there, but there it did not end.

Mark, it must be known, was an accident-prone youngster. Two years later, when he was ten, Mark fell off the back of the bleachers at a football game and yet again gave himself serious injury. He was only in the hospital for a day less than a week (due to concussion, broken arm, re-dislocated knee and broken ankle) this time, but it happened to be the week over Halloween. And on Halloween, at the hospital, the staff always set up a "haunted corridor." The hallway was decorated in all manner of spooky paraphernalia, and things would pop out of the various doors, attempting to scare the kids. Guess what waited behind door number two?

That's right… A clown. And not just any clown. The Clown. The same whiskey-breathed one, although his costume was geared more towards Halloween, now. And that made him all the scarier for Mark. The poor kid nearly peed his pants – which was something that was just not done at age ten. And thus another scar-for-life for Marky. Tsk.

But even this was not the end. One third and final time did Mark encounter this clown. He was at the hospital, visiting his sister Cindy, who had managed to break her leg falling down the stairs. She was only there for two days, but they were enough. During those two days, Mark happened to've wandered down a hall in search of a drinking fountain. He took a wrong turn and ran right into The Clown…

Yep. Another scar for Mark. Perhaps scares like this explain exactly why he is so pale? Anyway, these three encounters forever associated hospitals and clowns in his mind. Therefore, since then, Mark has been desperately afraid of hospitals… and desperately afraid of The Clown, which might jump out at him… which is why I, Roger, am dressing up as a clown for Halloween, all right? It's not because I want to be forever labeled as a dweeb – it's because seeing the look on Mark's face is going to be priceless, when I show up at his house tomorrow evening. Just so you know… Stop giving me that look! Sheesh…

Look, if you're going to keep that up, I'm leaving. I shouldn't've told you, anyway. Now you're going to go tell Mark and spoil the whole thing, aren't you? Jerk.

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END

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A/N: -grins- Hope you enjoyed that. Um… I'm sick, right now, so if there's anything really bizarre about it, well… blame it on the illness. Not me. 

So.. yeah. Please review, even if you hated it!

Love, Snarky


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